


Specific

by Smapdi



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1715336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smapdi/pseuds/Smapdi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU from Mindy's Birthday, Season 1 Episode 17.<br/>"You fell in a manhole trying to make your move, and you didn't even get the girl."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Specific

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HelenVanPattersonPatton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenVanPattersonPatton/gifts).



As quickly as it started, the impromptu waiting room birthday celebration ended, and Mindy hasn't even finished her second piece of cake. 

"Looks like you killed another party, Castellano." She hisses over her shoulder at Danny's slumped figure. He looks a little bereft, having been let down gently, but it's never quite gentle enough to not leave a few marks. 

"I broke my ankle!" He shouts back.

Her friends keep coming up and giving her kisses and hugs as they say their goodbyes. Little chunks of cake spray out as Mindy speaks. "Barely. You didn't even get a cool cast that I could sign. Jesus, is everyone gone?"

She's alone with Danny, who grimaces as he struggles to stand. Fuck. His injury made him too slow to escape, and the pack has left him behind. 

"You want some cake?"

"I just want to go home, Min." Once up on his feet, he starts the tedious process of crutch walking toward the exits. They are just a little too tall for him to move smoothly, but he wasn't about to take the child sized ones. They had balloons painted on them, for gods sake! He refuses to look at Mindy because he knows she's laughing. He can feel the vibrations. 

"Damn it, Danny. You look so pathetic." Her voice chimes in his ear as she strides over to help him. "You fell in a manhole trying to make your move, and you didn't even get the girl."

"No, it's fine, you don't need to... okay." Danny let her replace a crutch with her sturdy frame, draping an arm around her torso as she did the same to him. It isn't any less slow or awkward this way, but he doesn't have any fight left. 

"Hey, it's like a three legged race!" Mindy tucks the other crutch under her arm and attempts a hop. "Only it's like five legs, really, and it's not a race, because then a hot African guy would win, but anyway..."

"Do you even listen to yourself?" It's been a long night, and he didn't even want to come out in the first place. None of this would have happened if he had just stuck to his guns and stayed home instead of being forced to be social. It never worked in his favor. 

"Be nice, it's my birthday. You didn't even get me a present, but that's probably a good thing. I couldn't stand more humiliation." Her voice gets giggly and high pitched as she continues. "I'm so glad you stepped in and took the reigns on that, little cowboy. Poor baby Danny."

Enough. He grits his jaw and turns his head to say something cutting and clever, because fuck her, and fuck her birthday, he didn't ask for this.

But he doesn't, because her eyes are little half moons, glittering with joy, and she smells like chocolate and lilacs, and how had he never noticed before how her skin just seems to glow, like she's lit from within? 

What the fuck, Castellano. It's just Mindy. 

He just hasn't been this close to her outside an operating theater, where masks and caps keep her all covered up, so that's all it is. Unfamiliarity. 

She's looking at him funny, and they had stopped moving. He had stopped, at least.

"You okay? You need a Norco or something?" 

Danny resumes forward motion, staring steadfastly ahead. He's fine. He's always fine.

Mindy sighs annoyingly loudly. "Ugh. I mean, I had hoped I'd get to take a man home on my birthday. I really need to be more specific with the universe."

"You don't need to take me home. I'm fine, just give me the crutch." What Danny really needs is a drink. He plans to get a cab and then spend the remaining minutes of his lousy Saturday night with a shot glass of the only medicine that would cure this unsettled feeling, even if it was just for a moment. 

"No. It's my BIRTHDAY, Danny. You don't get to feel sorry for yourself tonight. Save that for the other 364 days of the year." They were on the street now and she hails a taxi immediately. Figures.

Getting in a cab with both an ankle boot and Mindy proves to be daunting. Her attempts at helpfulness are the exact opposite, and the cabbie is shouting at them to hurry or he's going to leave them, and Mindy is about to try to knock the partition out with a crutch because it's her BIRTHDAY and he's being rude. 

Danny can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, and Mindy turns to glare, but then she's joins him in the laughter. They stop and for a moment they're just looking at each other, and then the cabbie is screaming for an address and they both bust out in giggles again. 

"I've never been to your house, Danny." Mindy is playing with the hem of her blindingly sparkly skirt, and he sees she has a hell of a run in her stocking, an oval patch to the side of her knee with a vein running down her calf. He isn't sure why his fingers are itching to touch it. 

"Yeah. There's a reason for that. I keep my private life private." He grumbles, but there's no real gruff behind it. He's actually weirdly intrigued by the thought of Mindy in his home, even though he knows she just going to mess with his stuff and annoy him. 

She isn't responding, because she has her purse open and she's looking in a tiny mirror, rubbing off smudges of eye makeup. "Mmmmhmmm..." Mindy finally speaks. "You're such a man of mystery, Danny. I want to study you like a research project."

"Yeah, please don't." 

She just grins at him, snapping her compact closed dramatically. "I want to find out what makes you tick. You fascinate me."

Jesus. If some woman at a bar had said that to him, he would be pretty sure he was getting laid. But this is Mindy. Who knows what the hell game she's playing. 

It didn't take long to find out. 

"Hello, just kidding. You're boring." She rolls her eyes giddily. "Your face, though." She's full of shit, for sure, but what's unclear is which part is bullshit. 

Danny's grin is a mix of relief and maybe disappointment, and he turns his head to look out the window, seeing they are close to his block. 

"That's fucked up, Min." 

"Sorry, but, you know, birthday." Mindy reaches across her body to grab his arm playfully. "Did you think..."

She's twisted, facing him, and when her fingers sink into his bicep, something flashes across her face. Danny catches just the tail end of her expression as he turns back. 

"What?" 

"Nothing. Damn, you've got some guns on you." She squeezes for a second before pulling her hand back, though she remains slanted toward him. "Maybe Alex made the wrong call tonight."

The cab screeches to a halt in front of Danny's building and the driver scolds them to hurry, he wants to go home. Mindy is even less effective in helping him out, but eventually they manage to emerge relatively unscathed. Danny is making decent time without her help, but she trots along behind him anyway. 

"You don't have to... I'm good." He tells her as she opens the door to his building. 

"Birthday." 

"You have, like, twenty-five more minutes to play that card, sweetheart." The elevator doors close with a clunk and Mindy tucks her arm in the crook of his elbow. 

"I can do a lot in twenty-five minutes." Her smile changes to a mock glare when she sees his expression, his eyebrow quirked. "Not that, weirdo."

"I didn't say anything." He's grinning anyway. 

"You didn't have to. I know how your mind works, Danny." She seems remarkably undisturbed by this as she wiggles her eyebrows at him.

He's completely lost and he doesn't care. The elevator doors open and he realizes neither of them hit a button. 

"Do you just want to hang out in the elevator, Min?" He smirks. It's not the worst thing he can think of. 

Mindy rolls her eyes. "I don't know your floor, dummy." 

He hits a button with his crutch. "It's two, and hey, easy with the insults. I know, it's your birthday." 

"So this is your apartment. Huh." Mindy leaves his side to meander into the living room, running her hand over random things like a child.

"Yeah. Don't touch my stuff." Danny stands in the doorway, suddenly feeling the full force of her invasion. It feels like he's breaking out in hives. 

She frowns and continues on her path. "I don't have cooties."

"Whatever. I'm home safe, I'm just gonna hit the hay..." Danny licks his lips, holding the door open for her. She strolls back to him with a smile and shuts it. 

"Where do you keep your booze, Danny? Birthday!" 

It's impossible to fight her on this. Once the birthday privilege wears off, he can effectively shut it down, but for now, he has to give in. She's relentless, already opening every cabinet till she reaches her goal. 

"You have a remarkably narrow selection." She mutters, pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels and some shot glasses. "This is the only brand I recognize."

Danny is incensed. "I have a fantastic selection. Sorry there's no Mad Dog 20/20 for you. I have Pappy Van Winkle, you lunatic!"

"You are Pappy Van Winkle." Mindy chortles as she pours two shots and brings one to Danny. "Down the hatch!" His slides down smoothly; she chokes and the shot glass slips out of her fingers. 

"Careful!" Danny catches it and sets it down. "You almost broke it."

"Fire. Burning." Mindy shoves her face under the faucet and gulps water. It splashes everywhere, speckling her yellow top. Her hair has droplets clinging to it, shining like diamonds. She pours herself another shot immediately, and reenacts the previous scene, splashing slightly less the second time.

He stops her from pouring a third. "I was pouring it for you!" She squeaks feebly. 

"Okay, well, I'm good." The temptation to brush at the glimmering water in her hair is unbearable, and Danny has the realization that he needs this train to turn around before it goes off the track. First step, no more whiskey. 

"Oh come on, one shot?" Mindy is whipping the bottle back from him and tipping it before he can move. "Have one more, so we can be even."

Danny shakes his head. She moves closer, her hand holding the shot face high. "It's already poured, so one of us is going to drink it. You decide." Her smile is mischievous, decadent. 

His back is against the counter and he can't reach the crutches. She's inches away, biting her bottom lip, waving the shot slowly. "Birthhhhhdayyyy." 

Much better if he drinks it. Three shots would make her dangerous. 

Once he's swallowed it, she pours herself a third anyway, and this time it goes down like water. 

"Okay, once those hit you, you're going to be sorry." Danny inches toward his crutches so he isn't caught again. "How are you going to get home safe if you're plastered?"

"Oh Danny, I think I can handle a couple of shots of old man booze. If you had Jaeger, then maybe we'd have a problem." Her eyes are restless, flitting around the room as if she's trying to memorize it. "You should have bought me that for a present. Or, any present, really."

Mindy sits on a dining room chair and slips off her clunky heels, rubbing each foot in succession. She's making herself far too comfortable.

"I did get you a present." The room feels a lot warmer than he remembered it being five minutes ago. 

Mindy's eyes light up and she's back gripping his arm again, but she's shorter now, the way he likes it. "You did? What did you get me?"

"I let you in my house." She's not the only one who can tease, and he's puffed up and grinning at himself. "Happy birthday."

Her eyes roll back in her head so hard, they take her upper torso with her, and she flails her arms a little. 

"You're the worst." She hisses. "I wish Alex had picked you. I should text her, she's probably banging Jeremy right now." 

Well, that was cold. Danny's cockiness deflates and he gazes at his shoes, lips twisted in a wry smirk. "Ouch."

"I'm sorry. I don't wish that, really. I did warn her about Jeremy, but...she's kind of a slut. Not in a bad way. I'd never slut-shame." Mindy's hand is back on his arm again. It doesn't really ease the sting much. 

"Yeah, well... you shouldn't." It's said with the cadence of a joke, but there's a sharpness to it.

"What exactly do you mean by that, Danny?" Her voice is even sharper, and her fingers press hard into his skin.

He looks up with an innocent grin. "You know, women should support each other. Sisters and all." 

Mindy's eyes narrow. "Good save, Castellano." 

Her gaze moves to his temple. "Wow, Danny, you've got a little gray going on here, I hadn't noticed." She's plucking at his hair and peering closer and he's trapped like an animal. 

"Hey. Hey. Knock it off." Danny pushes her hand away, his discomfort etched on his face. "Stop with the touching." 

"What? It's not..."

He interrupts, a suppressed rant bubbling to the surface. He's still a little pissed, and his ego has taken enough of a beating tonight. 

"No, you come in here, and you touch my stuff, and you touch my hair, and you... you fuck around with the midwife, and it's just... you need to stop."

Mindy looks perplexed and annoyed. "What are you talking about? Don't be a baby."

"And you call me a baby!" Danny fixes his eyes to hers. "I saw you with Deslaurier, in the hospital. What are you doing with him? He's an... an enemy of the practice."

"It's really none of your business." He can see he's touched a nerve, and he's both glad and sorry. She looks away and fusses at her hair in that funny way she has, with the pads of her fingers, like her nails are inches long instead of the moderate manicure she sports. "I'm not 'fucking around' with him. Not anymore..."

"Well, you never should have. You should have more respect for the practice." Right. The practice. 

"No, I shouldn't have, but not because of the practice. The practice is well established, my personal life won't affect it. But he was... not good to me." She has a tremble in her lip and Danny feels like shit now. 

"Well, he's an asshole." He growls. 

"Yeah, well. He's not alone." She dabs at an eye, blinking furiously. "I was just going to say I like the gray hair, Danny. It makes you look distinguished, like George Clooney."

"I'm sorry." It's not appropriate to embrace your co worker after inadvertently making her tear up due to being a dick, so Danny doesn't. 

But he wants to.

In hopes of cheering her back up without inappropriate touching, he falls back on self deprecation. It's an easy out for him.

"I'm sorry for all the assholes. Present company included." And his resolve fizzles. He just touches her face, though, tucking his hand under her chin so she has to look at him. She smiles a tiny smile. 

"You're not that much of an asshole. Not always, at least." She turns so she's resting against the counter next to him, and the tension leaks out of the space, leaving it quiet. 

"So you like the gray? Your friend Alex must not have thought much of it." He jostles her with an elbow and grins, making peace. 

"Please forget about her, Danny." Mindy was still serious. "Don't take it as a slight. Alex isn't at a point in her life where she's looking for a Danny Castellano. She was looking for a Jeremy Reed, and there he was, so..." She shrugged and gave him a tight smile, a cheer-up-little-buckaroo smile, but he didn't return it. 

"What does that mean?" 

"Alex just wants to take things casual. Super casual. Like, that was fun, next time I'm in town, let's do it again, but don't call me, I'll call you." Her hand was back on his arm. "That's not you, Danny. You're a relationship kinda guy."

"I'm not... I don't have to have a relationship. I can do casual." He stops flexing his bicep when he realizes what he's doing. 

"Can you?" Mindy smirks. "You don't give off that vibe at all, so forgive the ladies if they... misconstrue." 

"Okay, it's maybe not my go-to, but I've had my share of... you know... hookups." He feels the heat as his face flushes. He's a terrible liar. 

"You can't even say it, Danny. Don't try to be who you aren't. You don't need to. The world needs more Dannys and fewer Jeremys." She smiles wider, and it reaches her eyes now. "Even if you do have shitty booze."

"Thanks?" Danny shakes his head and grins. "No, really, thanks. That's a nice thing to say, except the booze part. You're wrong about the booze."

"Okay, Danny." She blinks at him a few times. "I think I'm feeling those shots now."

"Yeah, I knew it would be too much for a sober Mindy to compliment me." Mindy still hasn't moved her hand, and she's still smiling way too wide. 

"I'm not drunk. I'm just a little buzzed. You forget, I had three dinners. And cake." She hiccups and it turns into a laugh. "I should go."

He agrees, but he wishes she wouldn't.

"Yeah, you probably should." He's not making his voice so breathy and low on purpose. And he's definitely not moving closer to her, but she seems closer anyway. 

"Well, before I go, I'm gonna use the rest of my present and check out this place a little more." Mindy breaks the spell and pushes off from the counter, resuming her tour. "Where's the bathroom?" 

"Well, the guest bathroom is over there, but it have my home brewing kit set up, so use the one in my bedroom." Danny hops onto his crutches and gestures with one.

"Oh, Danny. I pray the home brewing story is but a clever ruse to force the ladies closer to your waterbed and disco ball decorated swinger's pad." She peeks in the guest bathroom and frowns. "And it's not. Really Danny? Bathroom beer?"

"It's good. People like it." He shrugs. Nobody else has tasted it yet. "I'm still working on the recipes."

Mindy heads into his bedroom and makes a noise of mock astonishment. "So this is it, huh? This is where the magic happens!"

Her head pops back out the door as he makes his way toward her. "If the aforementioned magic was ever to happen, that is. Which, with the home brewery, seems unlikely." She's gone again, and he hopes she keeps her nose out of the medicine cabinets, not that there's anything particularly damning In there. Maybe jock itch cream.

Mindy emerges with a grin. "Nice bathroom, man. Travertine tile and the cheapest gas station toilet paper you can buy in bulk. If that doesn't just sum you up perfectly!"

"Yeah, yeah. I don't see why people waste money on..."

"Shhh." She presses a finger to his lips. "Boring. Save that kind of talk for the morning or they'll never stay the night."

"Okay, thanks for the tip." He pushes her hand away. 

"What are friends for?" 

"Well... its not like we're friends, really." He means it lightheartedly, but she's instantly offended. 

"What? Of course we're friends." She pushes him and he starts to lose his balance, stepping backwards. Mindy grabs at him to steady him but he just ends up taking her down with him. 

Fortunately the bed is right behind them and they land heavily, like something from a cheesy movie. Mindy rolls off him with a grunt. 

"You did that on purpose!" She sits up, slicking down her shiny skirt, noticing the run in her tights for the first time. "Damn it, these were expensive."

"How did I make you push me over on purpose? And why would I even do that?" 

"Oh, you know why. You've been giving me those looks all night." She's being super dramatic, flipping her hair and glaring, but he's almost certain she's protesting a little too much. She's posing, for god's sake. This fight feels like foreplay. 

Danny sputters as he sits up. "What are you talking about? You're the one who can't keep their hands off me!"

"In your dreams!" Mindy glares and pushes him again. 

"See?" Danny gestures frantically. "Why are you so violent?" He's leaning in, drawn like a magnet. She's still glowing. 

"Why did you say we aren't friends?" She's leaning too. Their hands are planted on the mattress at their sides, but their fingers are brushing and it's electric. 

There was a moment where they just face off, neither wanting to give in. Danny cracks first, as they both expected. 

"We're... friendly. We're co-workers who don't hate each other. Usually."

"How is that not friends?" Mindy doesn't have the fine distinctions that Danny does. There are strangers, and friends, and she has no in-between. Danny doesn't get it. 

"Well, we don't, like, go to the movies, or dinner, or anything." He is aware of how silly that sounds, especially since he had spent most of the evening at an actual dinner with her, but god forbid he give in again. If he keeps bending, he's going to break, and then what?

"We could!" She's insistent. Her hand flies up and back to the mattress and lands on top of his, inadvertently, but it's there. 

"No. We couldn't." 

"Okay, Danny. What, you think you're irresistible? I can't possibly just be friends with you." Mindy removes her hand and it's then he realizes it had been there on purpose and his throat is dry, too dry to even swallow, but he tries anyway. 

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying I... you know what? Never mind. We're friends." His fingers dig into the mattress because he has to grip something to hang on and if not that, then her. 

"You don't mean it." She's pouting, and she's right. He doesn't feel like her friend. Not when she has fire in her eyes and her nostrils are flared and she's touching him again. And her mouth. Her lipstick is mostly rubbed off and her lower lip is pressed out just enough to curve her whole mouth down, and it's not the whiskey that makes him want to kiss the frown away. 

When Danny manages to drag his eyes back up to hers, he's surprised, because they're soft and curious and full of something - understanding and if he's not mistaken, desire. 

"Oh." Her lips form a circle and he can't believe he's looking at them again when she moves. 

It's swift and courageous, and when he reflects on it later, he feels a sense of pride that Mindy took the initiative because he's not sure he would have ever had the nerve. Maybe it was the whiskey. Who knows. 

But for now what Danny does know the feel of those soft lips meeting his, the steadfast grip of her arms around his neck, the ridiculous heat of her body against him. 

Mindy pulls away, surprised at her own brashness. He can't recall the last time a woman made the first move, maybe high school? Playing seven minutes in heaven with Donna Demarco, when she grabbed him by the ears and stuck her tongue in his mouth. He's a little rusty on what comes next.

Her face tells him clearly. There's a window, maybe five seconds, where they can reel it in, chalk it up to a moment of mutual loneliness and go back to just being friendly? Friends? Whatever label seems fitting. 

He slams the window shut, his big hands spanning her face, and they can't go back now. He doesn't want to. Moving forward seems like a much, much better idea.

They're interrupted by the hollow sound of a clock striking, announcing the day is done, because of course Danny has one of those, probably literally passed down from his grandfather. It seems to snap them out of the haze. Mindy is lying half beneath him, her hair already forming knots and her blouse bunched up below her breasts, where his hand is currently exploring. 

"It's midnight, Cinderella." Danny's voice is thick and raspy, like he just woke up. Maybe he did. "Your birthday's over. Maybe you'd better put your shoes back on and find a cab before it turns into a pumpkin."

She fists her hands into his shirt and pulls him back down to her.


End file.
